The metal chair groaned beneath me.
Melissa heard it.
Her smile widened as though the sound had just confirmed everything she wanted everyone at the table to believe.
“See?” she said, looking around the dining room. “I told you the new chairs had a weight limit.”
Nobody laughed.
I sat there with my three-month-old son sleeping peacefully against my chest, surrounded by six beautiful cream-colored dining chairs.
Mine was different.
It was an old metal folding chair, with rust around the hinges and a surface that looked as though it had spent years being dragged from one uncomfortable occasion to another.
My husband, Adam, stared at his sister as if he were seeing her for the first time.
His mother slowly lowered her fork.
“Melissa.”
“What?” Melissa said, shrugging. “I’m protecting my furniture.”
“Melissa.”
I looked down at Eli.
His tiny fist was curled against my dress, completely unaware of the humiliation happening around him.
I’d spent three years going through fertility treatments.
Three years of injections that left bruises across my stomach.
Three years of appointments, disappointment, hope, fear, and moments when I wondered whether I would ever get to hold the baby I’d dreamed about.
I’d gained weight during the treatments.
Then I’d gained more during pregnancy.
And after everything my body had been through, I had finally become a mother.
That night, I’d walked into Melissa’s house hoping that maybe, just maybe, she would finally treat me like family.
Instead, she had given me a rusty chair and announced to everyone that I was too heavy for her new furniture.
Adam reached for his phone.
His thumb moved across the screen.
Then he looked directly at Melissa.
“Actually,” he said calmly, “someone else is coming.”
Melissa frowned.
“Who?”
Before Adam could answer, there was a knock at the door.
Melissa stood up with a smug little smile, apparently expecting another guest who would admire her newly decorated dining room.
Then she opened the door.
All the color disappeared from her face.
“Dr. Cole?”
I sat up slightly.
Cole was my cousin.
As far as I knew, he had never met Melissa.
And I had no idea why his arrival was about to change the entire dinner.
An hour earlier, I had been fighting with a zipper.
The dress had fit before the fertility treatments and pregnancy.
Now the zipper stopped halfway up my waist.
“Are you fighting with that dress?” Adam asked from the doorway.
I caught his reflection in the mirror.
He was holding Eli against one shoulder, with a bottle tucked beneath his arm.
“The dress started it.”
“That dress has always had an attitude.”
I let the zipper go.
“I just wanted to look nice tonight.”
“You do look nice, Natalie.”
“I’m wearing half a dress.”
“You look nice in half a dress.”
I laughed despite myself.
Adam crossed the room and kissed my shoulder.
“Wear the green one.”
“I wore it last week.”
“No one remembers.”
“Melissa remembers.”
That silenced him.
Once, while I was pregnant, Melissa had touched my stomach and casually said, “You know the baby’s only supposed to weigh a few pounds, right?”
Adam had immediately told her to stop.
She had laughed and claimed she was only teasing.
But I remembered.
I remembered every little comment.
Every look.
Every joke that was supposedly harmless.
That night, though, I wanted to believe things could be different.
“I want tonight to go well,” I told Adam. “I want Eli to grow up with a close family.”
Adam adjusted our son against his shoulder.
“You’ve been trying with Melissa for four years.”
He was right.
I’d tried.
I’d been polite when she wasn’t.
I’d laughed when she made uncomfortable jokes.
I’d changed the subject when she made comments about my appearance.
I’d kept trying because I didn’t want Eli growing up surrounded by family members who couldn’t stand being in the same room.
“Then maybe tonight she’ll finally notice,” I said.
Adam gave me a look I pretended not to understand.
Before we left, Cole called.
“I’ve got something for Eli,” he said. “Can I stop by later?”
“Of course, Doc,” I said.
Adam took the phone from me.
“Come to my sister’s instead,” he told him. “We’re announcing the godfather thing tonight. I’ll send you the address.”
